


Red Vs Blue: Rat's Nest Problems

by AgentVirginia



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Bullying, Caring, Fanfiction, Grimmons, Hazing, Helping, M/M, Read the tags!, Relationship Problems, Self-Harm, Sensitivity, Sexual Tension, Simmons - Freeform, Temptation, Tension, War, grif - Freeform, not feeling good enough, red team - Freeform, redvsblue - Freeform, roosterteeth, rvb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentVirginia/pseuds/AgentVirginia
Summary: Dexter Grif and Richard 'Dick' Simmons are off to their new base called Rat's Nest. Grif enjoys his new promotion to Sergeant and Simmons has a problem fitting in with his new teammates.
Relationships: Dexter Grif & Dick Simmons, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	1. Goodbye To Blood Gulch

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!  
> This is a story I wrote of what happened with Grif and Simmons while they were stationed at Rat's Nest.   
> It gets emotional, at times, so please read the notes before each chapter for the trigger warnings.   
> Thank you and enjoy!  
> P.S. I love reading comments, so don't hesitate to drop some love below!

Richard 'Dick' Simmons gave a sigh as he packed his duffle bag. He folded every article of clothing neatly, ensuring that nothing would wrinkle. After every piece of clothing was packed, he began to take his bathroom essentials and place them into ziplocked bags.   
  
Simmons was so focused on his organization and packing, that he hadn't realized his roommate had entered their shared bedroom. Dexter Grif shuffled in with a groan and plopped down on his bed. It creaked under his weight as he laid down and buried his face into his pillow.   
"Grif, are you done packing?" Simmons asked, barely looking over his shoulder to the orange armored soldier.   
"Mphm." Grif replied, not lifting his face off of the pillow.   
Not receiving an answer, Simmons sighed and turned around to look at him. Grif was in his orange armor, with his helmet off, revealing his several braids adorned with orange beads dangling over his face. He looked somewhat like a mop and Simmons had to refrain from chuckling.   
"What was that?" Simmons inquired again, hoping to receive an answer.  
"No, not yet." Grif finally lifted his head, looking annoyed as he turned his eyes to Simmons.   
"We're leaving in a few hours. You should pack!" Simmons groaned. Grif rolled his eyes as a response and quickly shuffled over to his foot locker at the foot of his bed. He removed his duffle bag and shoved clothes into the bag without bothering to fold them.   
"Grif, your stuff is going to get all wrinkled." Simmons warned as he turned back to his stuff spread out on top of his bed. Grif stayed silent as Simmons finished his packing. Simmons heaved his duffle bag off of the floor and adjusted the strap onto his shoulder. He looked back at Grif, who laid on the bed with his ankles crossed.   
"Uh, what are you doing?" Simmons asked.   
"I'm done packing." Grif replied with a yawn. Simmons looked at the duffle bag on the floor, reading the bold letters 'GRIF' read across the top. It was lumpy and almost not completely zipped.   
"Whatever." Simmons mumbled and exited the room, not giving it another glance as he made his way out of the base. 

  
The bright sun welcomed him as he stepped out into the daylight. The wind could be seen stirring up the dirt and carrying it away across the gulch. Simmons dropped the bag onto the ground and moved his eyes across the canyon he had called home for several years.   
"All set, son?" A gruff voice came from his left side. Simmons turned to see his Sarge, his sergeant...

  
He was dressed in his red armor and had his helmet removed. He was an older man with short silver hair that was peppered with black and grey hairs. His square jaw had a scar across it, and Simmons recalled the story of how Sarge jumped out of the planes in the Great War and had an accident by colliding into a tree.   
"Yes, sir." Simmons replied.   
Sarge gave a nod, casting his blue-grey eyes to the ground for a moment.   
"Good. Glad to hear." Sarge huffed for a moment and briefly glanced up at Simmons. "You two take care of each other." As Sarge finished his sentence, Grif came out of the base, carrying his own duffle bag.   
"Yeah, yeah." Grif replied, even though Sarge wasn't talking to him. Grif heaved the duffle bag onto the ground and stretched.   
"It's a shame—," Sarge said as he ran his hand over his hair. "I didn't get a chance to see Grif killed in battle." Simmons smirked as Grif released an exhausted sigh. 

The three of them stood in silence as a Pelican made its presence known in the air. They all craned their heads upward and watched as the Pelican landed in front of the base. Simmons felt a knot in his stomach, feeling sorry for leaving Sarge alone. Donut, their pink-armored companion, had left the week previously, leaving Sarge alone with a Spanish-speaking robot named Lopez.   
"Sir, it's been an honor." Simmons gave a salute to Sarge, who gestured back with the same salute.   
"Yes, it has...," Sarge watched as Simmons carried his duffle bag over to the Pelican, and then shifted his eyes over to to Grif. Grif stood a few feet away, holding his duffle bag. "Um. Yeah." Grif blinked for a few moments, his lips curling curiously.   
"Uh... yeah." They nodded towards each other and Grif carried his bag over to the Pelican, following behind Simmons.   
The pilot stepped out and introduced himself, helping the soldiers secure their bags onto the ship. He then returned to the cockpit as the Red soldiers gave one last wave to Sarge. Simmons and Grif sat across from each other, lowering the restraint bars down onto their shoulders. Simmons gave a sigh as he glanced over to his comrade. The Pelican announced their take-off, and Simmons closed his eyes as he felt his weight shift from the Pelican's motion.   
  
This was goodbye to Blood Gulch. Grif and him had their new orders, and they were off to a new base known as Rat's Nest. 


	2. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif and Simmons try to get adjusted to their new base...

The Pelican touched down on the sandy plane that slopped down to the place known as Rat's Nest. It was a fortified base that was built into the side of a mountain. As Grif looked out the window at the scenery, he couldn't help but feel that this place was way more desolate than Blood Gulch. There were just rolling hills of golden sand and boulders, with sporadic patches of barely surviving grass. A few trees with gnarled, bare branches stretched upwards toward to the sky, as if they were pleading for rain.   
"What a dump." Grif sighed.  
The ramp lowered from the back of the Pelican, signaling that they were clear to exit the vehicle. Simmons lifted his restrain bar and lifted his duffle bag up onto his shoulder. He took lead and descended the ramp.   
"Welcome to Outpost 25-B." A soldier dressed in red armor with maroon accents saluted to the arrivals. Grif finally joined Simmons' side, dropping his duffle bag at his own feet.   
"Yeah, hi. I'm Dexter Grif."   
"Ah. Yes. The new sergeant."  
Simmons grumbled angrily into his helmet about Grif's promotion, but both Grif and the new red soldier ignored him.   
"Yeah. Hi. Have someone carry my bag to my new room." Grif stated, staring through his visor at the soldier.   
"Uh... what?" The soldier cocked his head a bit and eyed the duffle bag on the ground.   
"I wanna see my new quarters. I'm in much need of a nap." Grif explained.   
"But, don't you want to meet your new soldiers and —," The red soldier was cut off as Grif raised his hands in frustration.  
"No! I need a nap. You, whoever you are, carry my bag to my quarters." Grif pointed his finger at a nearby red soldier, who had white accents adorned on his armor. The soldier was walking by, but froze as Grif pointed his finger at him.  
"Uh, y-yes, Sir!" The soldier hurried over and lifted up Grif's bag. "I'm Private Titus. Follow me, sir!"   
"Finally! Some respect!" Grif sighed and followed behind the soldier. Simmons exchanged glances with the other red soldier.  
"I'm assuming you're Private Richard Simmons." He stated in an unamused tone.   
"Correct. What's your name, soldier?"   
"Private Massey." Simmons gave a nod to acknowledge him and then they stood in awkward silence for a moment. "I... guess I'll show you where your quarters are. Follow me." Massey turned and Simmons followed behind and entered into the wide entrance. 

  
Outpost 25-B, also known as Rat's Nest, was a concrete square inside of the mountain with two levels. There were metal-grated stairs that lead up to the second floor platforms. Massey lead Simmons down the wide hallway, which was a route big enough for the Scorpion tank they had. Sitting next to the tank were a pair of Warthogs. Sporadic shipping crates sat out in the vehicle bay. Gun turrets were stationed above the bay, pointing outwards to the opening that allowed the sunlight in.   
They turned the corner and walked down a hallway. Massey pointed out the locker room that was connected to the showers. They continued down the hallway and pointed out the first private's room.   
"This is Private Titus' room." Massey explained. Simmons wanted to comment on the fact that there was a name plaque on the front of the door, and that he could _read_ , but he decided to digress and continued down the hallway.   
"The room across from Private Titus is my room." Massey explained and they came to the next two set of doors.   
"This is Private Hutch and Private Harper."   
The made it to the next set of doors, showing that one door was open.  
"This is your room." Massey explained. "Across the hallway is Private Booker." Before Simmons could peek into his open room, Massey pointed to the room at the end of the hallway. "That would be Sergeant Grif's room."   
"Thanks for the tour." Simmons gave a nod to Massey.   
"I'll give you time to unpack." Massey turned, wandered down the hallway and walked out of sight. Simmons stepped into his room, seeing a lone bed in the corner. The bedding was folded neatly and sat at the foot of the bed. There was a makeshift desk with a lamp next to the bed. A single cabinet was in the opposite corner of his bed. Everything within the base was a grey hue, and Simmons internally missed Donut's upbeat attitude and love for interior decorating. _At least he would add some color to this dullness..._  
  
Simmons dropped his duffle bag onto his bed, and then removed his helmet. He placed it on his desk and got to unpacking.   
"Knock, knock." Simmons' turned his head to his bedroom door and saw Grif standing there. Grif had removed his helmet and he looked partially tired.   
"Not napping yet?"  
"Nah, not yet. I'm heading to the mess hall to steal some food, first." Grif explained. "Nice room." He snorted.  
"At least we don't have to share our room." Simmons pointed out, narrowing his eyes at Grif.   
"Thank God. I'll be able to masturbate and not have to worry about you walking in." Grif huffed. Simmons' face suddenly went red and he gave a shudder.  
"Grif! What the fuck?!" Simmons snapped and Grif walked past his doorframe and down the hallway. Simmons shook his head, debating about going to get food with him. "Wait for me!" Simmons took off on a light jog and caught up to Grif.   
  
They walked down the corridor and came to the wide hallway. They walked along the ramp that lead to the mess hall. Grif was relieved that it was close to their sleeping quarters, and it was labeled with a golden sign that swung in the breeze with bronzed lettering: 'MESS HALL.'   
Grif hummed happily as he went inside the room and quickly looked around. It was a long room with two refrigerators, a long freezer and two sets of sinks. There was a stove and two microwaves that sat next to each other on the counter. Grif noticed a door on the side of the counter and peeked inside. There was several shelves that had a few cases and cans of various foods.   
"Man, they need some organization in here." Simmons commented as he went through the cupboards. He made the noise 'tsk tsk' as he closed the cupboard and went through the next one.   
"Oh, fuuuuck!" Grif let out a moan of pure ecstasy, and Simmons couldn't help but feel a shudder of awkwardness as he recalled Grif's masturbating admission. "I found twinkies!" Grif unwrapped the spongey goodness and shoved it entirely into his mouth. He tilted his head back and groaned happily as he chewed it.   
"Geez, Grif." Simmons shook his head and looked at a red bowl on the counter. Inside of the bowl were a few pieces of fruit, and Simmons couldn't resist grabbing an apple. Grif smacked his lips and Simmons couldn't help but look over to his orange comrade. Grif cradled an arm full of twinkies and quickly rushed towards the entrance of the mess hall.   
Simmons rolled his eyes and followed behind him as he bit into the apple. Grif hurried down the hallway towards his room, not being seen by any of the red soldiers. Simmons munched on the apple as he watched Grif disappear into his room.   
  


Simmons went back to finish unpacking after he consumed the apple. He tossed the core into his mesh trash bin and then, made his bed. After the minutes went by, he sighed and plopped down onto the thin mattress. He heard the bed squeak under his weight and slowly laid down. He rested his cheek into the pillow, and suddenly began to think of Sarge. He wondered if he was okay, and couldn't help but actually miss the older man. He had grown attached to him; even idolized him.   
There was a longing in his chest and Simmons allowed his eyes to close. He hated to admit it, but he even missed _Donut_. He wondered if his new teammates would like him, and allowed the heavying thoughts of the future to lull him to sleep. 


	3. A Fresh Start?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons struggles with his jealousy over Grif's promotion to Sergeant and tries to fit in with the new Red team.... thanks to Grif.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been procrastinating, so I apologize ;_;  
> I'll update more when I get my butt in motion. I swear!  
> Thank you all who have been sweet enough to leave comments. It makes my heart happy <3

Simmons sighed as he shuffled his way to the front entryway to the base. Massey had gathered everyone together to introduce him and Grif to the team. Grif was unwrapping a twinkie and shoving the contents into his mouth.  
  
"Where the Hell did you get a twinkie?" Simmons inquired as he stared disgustingly at Grif.  
"Don't ask. Don't tell." Grif murmured between bites as he devoured the spongey dessert. Simmons rolled his eyes and wiped a hand over his face.  
  
"Ah, here they are." Massey announced.  
All the new red team members turned to see Simmons and Grif approach them.  
"Yeah. Hi." Grif said with disinterest as he tossed the empty packaging of the twinkie onto the ground. Massey followed the packaging to the ground with his eyes, and then slowly looked back up at his new Sergeant.  
"Hello everyone! I'm Private First Class Dick Simmons." Simmons said proudly. A few of the reds snickered quietly.  
"Shh, shut up! Shut up!" One of the reds snickered. Simmons sighed within his helmet.  
_Grow up_ , Simmons thought.   
"Yeah, and I'm your new Sergeant, Dexter Grif. Yada yada yada." Grif rolled his hand through the air, as if it to say hurry up.   
"Right." Massey said and cleared his throat. "What are you first orders, sir?"   
"Orders?" Grif asked, clearly puzzled.  
"Um... yes, sir. Orders. The blue base over yonder... we're fighting against them...?" Massey explained, growing more confused and impatient as he talked.   
"Ugh. Right. Go.... go beat them." Grif said with a yawn.  
"'Go beat them'?!" Massey stressed as his voice rose.  
"Did I stutter?" Grif snapped.   
"Um. No, sir." Massey suddenly grew very quiet.   
"I'm on a break. Go... do whatever you want." Grif ordered and turned to walk away.   
"Um... whatever we want?" Titus asked, tilting his head.   
"How about going to organize the armory? And take data of our current rations? I've noticed we need _a lot_ more organization in this base. It's terrible!" Simmons suggested.   
"First of all, _nerd_ ," snapped Hutch, "That sounds like a job for you. Second of all, _you're_ not the Sergeant. _He_ is." Hutch thrusted his finger towards the orange soldier who was walking away.  
"I'm very aware of that." Simmons stated through gritted teeth.   
"Let's go guys." Massey said as he began to usher the other reds away.   
"Pfft. What a loser." Booker murmured. "'Go organize the armory'." He mimicked, causing the other reds to laugh.   
Simmons sighed and threw his hands up in defeat before turning to follow after Grif. 

Simmons finally caught up to Grif as he reached the outside of his bedroom door.  
"Dammit Grif, what the fuck?" Simmons snapped as he followed Grif into his room.   
"What, Simmons?" Grif sighed as he slumped into his bed.   
"You're supposed to be _leading_ the team. Not making them lazy fucks like you." Simmons said as he slammed the bedroom door behind him and rested his body against it.   
"Hey, nobody likes a kiss-ass, which is what _your_ job is. Simmons, I think you need to be kissing my ass more." Grif suggested as he waved his hand out towards Simmons. Simmons removed his helmet and dropped it to the ground in frustration.  
"Ugh. You wish." Simmons cheeks turned red as he looked off at nothing in the room.   
"Nu uh. That's no way to speak to your _Sergeant_ , Simmons." Grif corrected as he dropped his arms onto his pillow. Simmons closed his eyes and growled.  
"The only reason you got promoted is because you saved Sarge's life with CPR. That's it! Command, for some ungodly reason, thought you were leadership material for doing that!" Simmons ranted as he threw his head back with a sigh.   
"Maybe you should have taken initiative to save Sarge's life." Grif suggested as he yawned and crossed his legs at the ankles.   
"I fucking hate you." Simmons growled. He bent down and picked up his helmet.  
"Nu uh. It's 'I fucking hate you, _SIR.'"_ Grif corrected as he fluffed his pillow. Simmons groaned and left the room, slamming the door behind him to show he was heated. 

* * *

**DAY TWO....**

Simmons noted to himself.   
_Made no friends. Everyone thinks I'm a nerd and dislikes my ideas.  
_Simmons took it upon himself to go to the food pantry and start organizing the rations. He busied his mind and hands as he went through the various shelves, noting down information into his datapad.   
He rotated his head, allowing his neck to relieve some pressure as he lowered down to the bottom racks and fished through some of the boxes. His datapad started to beep and he noticed the notification that it was time for lunch. He pushed the boxes to the side, making sure to note where he left off before stepping out of the pantry.   
  
The reds were already fishing out scoops of oatmeal at the stove and filling their bowls. Grif was eating at a table alone, dipping his loaf of bread into the oatmeal before shoving it into his mouth. Simmons decided to avoid the pain-in-the-ass and get in line to get his share. He picked up his bowl and listened to the talking around him. 

"Dude, she was _hot._ " Titus stressed as he went to the reds table. "Like, the hottest chick _ever_."   
"And she dumped your ass." Hutch pointed out, causing the table to erupt in laughter.   
"Shut it, dick lips." Titus snapped as he shoved Hutch.   
"I'm surprised you ever been with a woman." Harper said as he sipped his soup.   
"Duh. I'm not a virgin. Pffft." Titus laughed as he bit into his bread.   
  
Simmons sat in front of Grif after filling his bowl. He clicked off his helmet and sat it on the bench next to him. Now that Simmons had his helmet off, he could see the rest of the reds clearly. 

Massey had black hair that was shaped into the regulation cut. His jaw had a prominent dimple in the center. He looked like a snarky asshole, with or without the helmet.   
Titus had a buzz cut that showed off his blonde hair. He had high cheek bones and a pointy chin.   
Hutch had chubby cheeks, a clean-shaven head and thin eyebrows. Simmons wondered if he had trouble growing his hair... His skin was tanned similarly close to Grif's.   
Harper had brown hair that was also shaved, but had a few curls at his widow's peak. He had an interesting burn across his left cheek and part of his eyebrow was missing. It seemed he got to close to something hot and it burnt the hairs clean off.   
Last, was Booker. Booker had red hair, more red than Simmons'. His face was nearly covered with red freckles from his cheeks, to his chin. Alongside his neck was a solar system of freckles, too. 

"Hey Simmons, they're talking about _not_ being a virgin. That's something you know all about, right?" Grif spoke loudly, letting the reds catch on to what he was saying. Grif slurped his oatmeal as he eyed his maroon comrade mischievously. The reds slowly turned their heads and looked over at Simmons and Grif, seeing Simmons nearly spatting out his oatmeal.   
"Oh yeah? You got a girl back home or something, Simmons?" Hutch inquired.   
Simmons stiffened his back at the question as he swallowed down a bit of saliva. His heart was racing with anxiety as his eyes shifted nervously at Grif. He wished he could punch that fat fucker in the face...  
"Um. Yeah—," Simmons began to say, but Grif interrupted him.   
"A girl back home? Try like _TEN_." Grif explained as he swung his leg over the bench and looked back at the reds. "This dude was plowing them down left and right before he got sent off to Basic." The reds rose their eyebrows with interest and looked over at the blushing maroon soldier. "Tell them about that one chick you banged, Simmons." Grif waved a hand towards Simmons, who sat, flabbergasted.   
"Uh. Um." Simmons cleared his throat as his voice squeaked out, "W-Which one?"   
Internally, Simmons was screaming.   
"You know, the blonde." Grif said as he gave his head an innocent tilt. His face was completely still and serious.   
"Oh. Oooooh! Yes! THAT ONE!" Simmons cleared his throat again, took a swig of his water bottle and casually glanced around the room. "Right. Right. Man. She was... She was—,"   
The reds were leaning intently over as they waited for Simmons to indulge them with his story.   
"She was what?" Booker asked, his eyes perfectly round with curiosity.   
"Crazy! Yeah, she was SO crazy." Simmons exaggerated as he motioned with his hands. "Yeah. She was...," He looked at Grif, who was rolling his eyes.   
"Oh, she went into crazy shit, huh?" Titus asked. "Those are always fun." The reds all chuckled in unison.  
"Yeah. Crazy stuff!" Simmons replied.  
"Like what?" Massey asked.   
"Um. Like...," Simmons tried to think of something. He recalled the few occasions Grif and him shared porno magazines at Blood Gulch, and some of the porn videos he had sneaked into watching on lonely nights, and tried to think of something that seemed 'crazy' to him. The thoughts were rushing through his head, but he wasn't a professional at this subject. "She liked being tied up?" Simmons threw out the answer,   
"Ooooh!"   
"Damn!" The reds jeered and laughed as they continued to stare with interest at Simmons.   
"Yea... Yeah!" Simmons sounded more confident as he knew he had their interest. "She would like getting tied up. And... and spanked!" The reds cheered louder." Oh man, and eating in bed!" The last tidbit of information caused the jeering to halt.   
"Uh... okay?" Booker smirked. Grif was refraining from smacking himself in the forehead.   
"Yeah... and she would like... to go... all night." Simmons finished his last bit of his story and sipped at his oatmeal.   
"...Huh." Titus scrunched his eyebrows together as he glanced at the other reds.   
"All night, you say?" Massey repeated as he looked at the other reds.   
"Say, what was her name, Simmons?" Hutch asked after he finished chewing on a piece of bread. Simmons froze. His heart thudded in his chest. He glanced at Grif nervously and blurted out the first name that came to his head.  
"Kai."   
The reds pondered this for a moment before turning back to their food without another question. Grif narrowed his eyes angrily at Simmons and picked up his empty bowl before disposing it into the sink. Simmons sighed, feeling heat rise up his neck and to his face. 

* * *

After Simmons devoured his meal, he walked through the base with a mission to hunt down Grif. His fists were clenched tightly as he huffed within his helmet. He stormed down the hallway that lead to the various bedrooms and approached Grif's door. He slammed the side of his fist against the door with urgency and waiting for a response.  
"Hey fat-ass! You better not be sleeping!" He drummed on the door again, then checked the handle and allowed himself in.   
Grif was sprawled out on his bed with his face under the pillow. His armor was scattered amongst the floor and he was dressed in his boxers and a T-shirt. Simmons groaned with frustration as he walked into the room, allowing the door to click shut behind him. A snore rumbled underneath the pillow and Simmons allowed a sigh to escape his lips. He went over to Grif's bedside and lifted the pillow, finding Grif's face squashed against the mattress. His cheek was plump and used for a support, and a bit of drool lingered along his bottom lip. Grif sniffled in his sleep, causing his face to flinch.   
"Grif, wake up!" Simmons shook him by his shoulder, causing Grif to groan.   
"Noooo... go awaaaay." Grif swatted at the hand weakly and turned his head, showing the back of his head to Simmons.   
"No! Get up!" Simmons punched Grif in the shoulder with his cybernetic arm, causing Grif to yell.  
"OW! You fuck!" Grif sat up and rubbed at his shoulder. "What do you want, dude? Can't I take a siesta in peace?!" Grif narrowed his bushy eyebrows as he stared angrily at Simmons.   
"No! What the Hell was that during lunch?!" Simmons threw his hand out, motioning out to the other side of the base.   
"What? I thought I'd try to score you cool points." Grif smirked. "But then again, you are a hopeless nerd who has never been intimate with anything other than a sock." Grif attempted to reach at his pillow in Simmons' hand, but Simmons jerked it away as he began to spat.  
"I-I-YES I HAVE!" Simmons' face was furiously red. "Been intimate with someone other than a sock, I mean!" Simmons waved the pillow and smacked Grif in the side of his head.   
"Why you pissed at me?! It's not my fault you suck at lying!" Grif attempted to swipe at the pillow again before Simmons dangled it into the air.   
"I don't need your help, Grif!" Simmons warned as he thrusted a finger into his face.   
"Uh, kinda sounds like you do. Everyone already complains about you being a nerd and a kiss-ass." Grif smirked as he shoved Simmons finger away from his face. "You need to chill out. Maybe you should go be intimate with a sock and relieve some stress...," As Grif finished his suggestion, he lied back into his bed and tucked his arm underneath his head.   
"UGH!" Simmons growled and dropped the pillow onto Grif's face. He quickly turned on his heels and beelined for the door, having his head busy with thoughts. He opened the door and made it to his room, only to have the door slammed behind him.   
Simmons removed his helmet and dropped it onto his bed and plopped down onto the mattress. He wanted to scream. He rubbed his face with his hands before letting them slowly fall at his sides. The grey concrete ceiling stared back at ceiling, and Simmons could only think of Blood Gulch and how he missed Sarge...


End file.
